Tag Archives: prayer

Completing the Party: Thoughts on Grace

This is the (edited) text of a talk I gave at Living Spirit Church on Sunday, April 28th. Enjoy! 

Once upon a time in 2008, I was on routine at L’Arche*, feeling downcast. Most of the assistants on our house team were leaving that summer. Yet even as I dreaded saying goodbye, I saw a silver lining: I’d build stronger relationships with those who remained.

You can’t always get what you want …

 

I wanted to mark this place and time when I decided against despair. So I asked Theresa** and Cassandra** if they’d like to do Sidewalk Chalk.

Neither was remotely interested. (It’s one of the beautiful things about L’Arche: if someone isn’t interested, they’ll likely tell you.) But they were happy to go outside.

So I brought out chalk and thought about what to draw. I am not a visual artist; I can barely draw a stick figure. But I love words, so I decided to write.

One of the assistants who was leaving had introduced me to the writings of Frederick Buechner, so I wrote these words of Buechner’s on the pavement:

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn’t have been complete without you.”

I added swirls and big letters. Strangers paused to read, smiling at me. When I was done, I stood, brushed my hands, and felt as though I’d crossed a threshold between my life as it was and my life as it would be.

I was going to have to say goodbye to people I thought I couldn’t live without, but I would carry on. I’d accepted my part in the great cosmic party.

***

But when I started writing this talk, I didn’t feel like celebrating. I’ve had some very exciting things happen with my writing and speaking in the last few months, but this past week I found out that I hadn’t been selected for a prestigious creative arts fellowship.

If I’d received the fellowship, I would have had a full year and $40,000 to devote to my next book. So I put a lot of love and effort into the application. But it wasn’t to be.

Even though I know that rejection is part of the writing game, it still hurt. I felt like more talented artists were on the dance floor, while I was a wallflower, unwelcome.

I’ve been there before, so I know how tempting it is to dive into more work and deny, deny, deny. It’s hard to have a hope, a dream, a sense that you have a shot, and then see it fade away.

***

… But if you try sometimes, you get what you need.
~The Rolling Stones

What I didn’t tell you before was that my best friend, a beautiful person and a talented writer, also applied for this fellowship. We cheered each other on, read each other’s drafts, offered suggestions, and promised that we’d both celebrate if one of us received the award.

As it turns out, she didn’t receive it either. We exchanged bummed-out texts, and she helped me by admitting that she, too, was sad. And she wrote, What nice wallow-y thing will you do for yourself?

It was the perfect message, because it put me on the spot. This is what real friends do:  teach us how to be kind to ourselves.

So I had some chocolate and watched the Gilmore Girls. I acknowledged the loss before pushing myself to achieve again. And I wrote this talk, as an act of affirmation.

I have a choice. I can beat myself up and engage in negative self-talk. Or I can choose to believe that I’m part of a party, an honored guest, just like you. I can choose to believe in a God of grace and second (and third and fourth) chances.

***

And after the Boston Marathon bombings last month, people started posting the lines that follow the ones I wrote on the sidewalk:

Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It’s for you I created the universe. I love you.

There’s only one catch. Like any other gift, the gift of grace can be yours only if you’ll reach out and take it. Maybe being able to reach out and take it is a gift too.”

Today, I give thanks for people like you, those who help me to believe these words. Because I don’t think we can fully believe or understand them outside the context of relationship.

What’s going to help me get through the disappointment and rejections is the fact that I’m not alone in them. There’s a lot I don’t know, but I do know that real friendship is a gift.

Friends on the journey of LIFE.

***

Even if we lose, we don’t lose alone. And if we win, we win together. That’s the promise of true friendship, and it’s what God promises us from before we were born and long after we die.

To be with us always. To go as far as it takes, as long as it takes, to reach us.

To give us gifts beyond our wildest imaginings.

And to help our very hands open up to receive them at last.

***

What’s your experience of true friendship? Join the conversation in the comments!

***

More from Yours Truly:

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*L’Arche (French for ‘The Ark’) is a faith-based non-profit that creates homes where people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together.

**Names have been changed.

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Renovations of the Home & Heart: A Tale of Transformation

Miguel*, one of my friends from L’Arche**, was in the ICU last week.

Whenever something like this happens — and despite the wonderful, highly specialized care he receives, it happens several times a year — my heart aches.

It always seems colossally, brutally unfair, these illnesses and hospitalizations. It reminds me of truths I’d rather not remember: that I am not in control, that my friends at L’Arche are growing older, that I cannot know how much more time they — or any of us — have left.

There’s a terrible powerlessness that comes with knowing: if we choose love, we are going to get our hearts broken. We are bound to lose so much.

***

Mi amigo, 2009

As I was typing the lines above, my husband Jonathan knocked on the door and asked if he could show me something. I did not welcome the interruption; in fact, it felt like the worst possible time for me to take pause.

I’m trying to figure out how to tie this post together! my mind protested. But writing about my friends at L’Arche is like being in their presence in that it gives me a sense of deep-down peace. So I agreed to Jonathan’s request, putting my computer aside.

My husband led me into the dining nook of our home, the space he’d been working on for several days. He paused, then turned on the newly-installed overhead lights. Thanks to his handiwork, what had once been a dingy, dreary corner was now a clean, inviting space.

His diligent labor had yielded beauty, and he wanted me to witness it alongside him.

The transformation was complete; in fact, I could barely remember what the space used to look like.

All of the sudden, it hit me: this is the work of love in our lives. What happened within this space is akin to what happened to my heart when I came to L’Arche. It wasn’t some surface shift, some minor sweeping and dusting. Instead, it was a total renovation.

***

Real love makes us vulnerable; it strips off the layers of old paint and debris we like to hide behind. It’s a transformative process, one that will most certainly get messy before it’s complete.

And when it gets messy and complicated, we want to throw up our hands and walk away. We want everything in our heart’s home to go back to the way it was before. A part of us thinks, selfishly: I wish I didn’t know and love this person. That way, I wouldn’t feel so vulnerable.

It feels like we’re ‘losing’ so much, being so vulnerable. And it’s true, we are losing our illusions. But we’re actually gaining a great deal, because such vulnerability is priceless. To love another in a way that opens your heart and changes your life forever? That’s what it means to be fully alive.

Arms-length, 2012

But we don’t know if we really believe this, so we look back, longingly, to the life we had (though it was dark and claustrophobic).

We want to know exactly what we’re getting into before we begin, before we open our hearts. But that’s not how it works. The process itself changes us in ways we can hardly imagine.

This kind of change — wrought by small, daily acts of compassion — looks like magic when you see it for the first time. And when you do, you know that every stroke of the paintbrush (and every time you faced a terrible infestation, searched frantically for a missing person, and shared bone-weary breakfasts) was worthwhile.

***

All of this ran through me as I stared into the new lights. Tears came, so I shut my eyes and prayed for my friend.

And though eyes were closed, light still shone against the darkness.

***

What gives you hope? Join the conversation in the comments!

***

Fed up with an ‘impossible’ person? Tired of a situation that may never change?

Pick up my new Kindle* Single, I Was a Stranger to Beauty (ThinkPiece Publishing).

*If you don’t have a Kindle, don’t worry! You can use Amazon’s (free) Kindle Cloud Reader.

More New Posts from Yours Truly:

Upcoming speaking engagements – if you’re in the area(s), I’d love to see you there!

Enjoy this post? Receive posts via email, along with your FREE copy of Your Creed of Care: How To Dig For Treasure In People (Without Getting Buried Alive).

*Names have been changed (and the latest word is that he is doing much better now).

**L’Arche (French for ‘The Ark’) is a faith-based non-profit that creates homes where people with and without intellectual disabilities share life together. I worked with the DC community for 5 years.

If you enjoyed this post, please share it with your online community!